


Locker Neighbors

by yooonmint



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-25 21:46:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12541904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yooonmint/pseuds/yooonmint
Summary: Klance High school AU





	Locker Neighbors

**Author's Note:**

> Entirely fluff because I want to cleanse myself of pain.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Keith and Lance are both out of character, I did this for three reasons, 1)Self projection is the easiest way for me to not lose interest in a story, 2) This is based on real people who happen to act this way, 3)This is not a canon timeline, Voltron takes place in what is presumably the future, and without the events of the show, Lance and Keith would act very differently, more like real teenage boys, and much less like immature soldiers that they are trained to be in the Galaxy Garrison. Thank you and on with the story.

 

To say the least, Keith was bad with people.

And falling for a beautiful Cuban exchange student didn't help with that.

It all started on a Monday morning, the first day of second semester. 

"Excuse me, could you help me with my locker?" That voice. His faint accent, it was so pretty. Keith couldn't help but wonder where he was from. 

Keith nodded, not trusting his voice to hold out with the extreme social anxiety that was constricting around his heart like a snake.

8-16-36

Keith twisted the lock, trying to get both of them to class as quickly as he could. 

The locker popped open easily. Keith made it his personal goal to escape and get the air back in his lungs.

"Thank you." The tan boy said. Keith nodded, already a meter away with his back turned.

Every day it seemed the same, the tan boy would attempt the combination twice, before looking at Keith and asking for assistance. Sometimes, he'd show up early and try three times, whereas other times  
he'd show up with bedhead and only glance at the lock with a longing gaze before asking Keith to step in.

In all honesty, Keith didn't mind. Had it made him late once or twice? Yes. Had he gone to detention once for it? Yes, but Keith would take thousands of detentions before he'd let the soft flutter in his stomach stop coming. 

"Excuse me..." before the boy could finish, Keith had stepped to the right and opened it.

Stepping back to his locker, Keith pulled out his binders, slammed it, and headed to class. 

At the end of the day, Keith stood back and watched the tan boy's hands as he closed his backpack. He'd probably asked Pidge and Hunk, the only other people in the hall who could possibly help him open his locker.

After the boy had left, Keith wandered over to Pidge, his best friend. 

"Do you know his name?" Keith felt himself asking.

"Whose name?" Pidge inquired.

"That foreign one with the cute accent." 

Now is probably a good time to explain just how gay Keith was. He was so far out of the closet that it almost seemed like that valedictorian was pulling other people out of the closet.

"Ahh, you mean Lance." Lance, cute name.

"Did you help him get his locker open?" Keith asked.

"No way Beefy boy, he's had that figured out since his third day here. If you ask me, I think he just likes to talk to you." Pidge stated.

"I call bullshit, Pigeon." Keith said.

"By any chance, do you have his combo memorized?" Pidge asked.

"I've opened it twice a day, every day, how could I not have memorized it?" Keith said.

"Do you have paper? Pencil?" 

"Yes...?"

"Write him a note." Pidge suggested.

"What do I say? 'Oh, hello Lance, I'm really gay for you, wanna hang out?" Keith said sarcastically.

"I think that's a great idea."

"Listen, I'll think about it and leave a note tomorrow, got it?" 

"Yuppie. Now get home, you lunatic." Pidge skipped away, leaving the boy to stand alone.

Keith couldn't sleep that night.

At least his note was done.

First thing the next morning, Keith was early to school, his note was in place and he was most definitely not going to be there when Lance read it. 

Keith was nowhere to be seen when Lance got into school the next day. He had easily opened his locker on his own.

To say the least, Lance was good with people.

He enjoyed talking, to an extent where people found him irritating.

Lance craved interaction.

Keith was an unintended bump in the road. Lance didn't want to meet a cute boy who he happened to have a locker right next to it, he just wanted to make some friends to make these next few months fun before heading back to Varadero.

Lance pulled open his locker as a small, torn piece of lined paper fluttered to his feet. He bent down, retrieving the sheet.

XXX-XXX-XXX  
I finally found the courage to write this, text me  
-Locker #1231

Lance automatically knew it was from Keith, the socially awkward boy.

Keith watched from around the corner, smiling as the faint line across Lance's lips curved upward. He felt himself let out a breath he was holding in unwillingly.

Keith made it to first period, his phone chimes.

XXX-XXX-XXXX: Hello?  
Keith: Hello?  
XXX-XXX-XXXX: Is this...?  
Keith: My name is Martha.  
XXX-XXX-XXXX: I know this isn't Martha.  
Keith: If you're doubting my   
Martha-ness, do you care to take a guess?  
XXX-XXX-XXXX: hmm... Keith..?  
Keith: You guessed it. I'll assume this is Lance?  
XXX-XXX-XXXX: Yep.

Keith quickly changes the stream of numbers to a proper contact name.

"Mr. Kogane! Is your texting more important than this class?" The teacher shouts, Keith quickly puts his phone away, putting his head down in embarrassment.

Keith: Shit, my teacher just caught me, I've gotta go.  
Lance: Okay, I'll see you after class.

Keith tries to focus, avoiding all thoughts of Lance.

Forty minutes later and Keith was home free. His phone vibrated in his pocket.

Lance: You out of class yet?  
Keith: Yes.  
Lance: You stopping by the lockers?  
Lance: Maybe we could hang out later.  
Keith: I'm headed to my locker now. What would we do if we hung out?  
Lance: IDK, you could come chill with Hunk, Shiro, and I. That work?  
Keith:Actually, I've got a test to study for tomorrow, maybe some other time.  
Lance: Next week?  
Keith: Lets hope.

Keith felt a sensation of dread wash over him, maybe Lance didn't feel the same.

Later that night, Keith received a message, rather alarming to say the least.

Lance: Yo man  
Keith: Hello?  
Lance: Haha  
Keith: ???  
Lance: Dude  
Keith: Yes?  
Lance: Can you keep a secret?  
Keith: Yes...?  
Lance: K  
Lance: I know this person and they're hot.  
Lance: Haha, wat do I do man?  
Keith: Are you drunk?  
Lance: Nah  
Keith: I don't believe you.   
Keith: Where are you?  
Lance: I only had s few beers  
Lance: At shirts house  
Lance: It is cool in here  
Keith: Shirt?  
Lance: Haha  
Lance: Shiro  
Lance: Lol lol lol  
Lance: Anyways  
Lance: Wat so I do about this person?  
Keith: That depends on the person, who is it?  
Lance: Oh! Junk just chugged down two period  
Lance: Lol lol lol  
Lance: I meant beers lol  
Lance: I want another drink, hold on keith  
Lance: This person is pretty  
Keith: you shouldn't be drinking anymore.  
Lance: This person is cool  
Keith: Who is this person?  
Lance: Should I drive out and get tequila?  
Keith: NO  
Keith: GOD NO  
Keith: DONT DRIVE ANYWHERE, YOU DUMBASS  
Lance: But Keeiiitthhh  
Lance: I want tequila.  
Lance: The party doesn't start until the tequila shots.  
Keith: I’M ON MY WAY! STAY PUT!  
Lance: Are you gonna get tequila on the way?  
Lance: Haha, that's a funny word  
Lance: Tequiiiilllllaaaa  
Keith: I'M ON MY WAY!  
Lance: Hurry man  
Lance: I want tequiiillllaaaa

Keith rushes to Shiro's house, hoping Lance will stay there. He knew the route by heart, as he had walked the path many times as a kid. Sadly enough, Shiro and Keith hadn't been as close as back then, though they stayed friendly enough.

Keith: HOLD ON  
Lance: Omg  
Lance: We are playing spinnnn the bottle  
Lance: I need some beer  
Lance: Hold on  
Lance: Bro  
Lance: Is that your car out front?   
Lance: Turn down the headlights! It hurts   
Lance: It burrrnnnnsdddd  
Keith: Open the door.   
Lance: Okay  
Lance: Wait  
Lance: How do I open doors  
Keith: Get Shiro to do it.  
Lance: I seeeeeee you  
Lance:Peek a boooo  
Lance:Okay  
Lance: You look nice under that porch light  
Lance: Wow  
Lance: You're pretttyyyy  
Keith: Thanks? I can't see you, but I can imagine you look like a dumpster fire after all the alcohol you've had.  
Lance: That's not nice  
Lance: Okay, Shiro will get the door

Keith's heart was beating out of his chest. No matter how hard he tried to push the thoughts of the adorable boy beyond the door. It was hard for Keith to think of Lance as anything other than perfect. Sure, he had his days where he wasn't in the best shape, all humans are like that.

Keith was ripped from his daze as he saw Shiro beyond the door. Shiro pulled him inside, quickly shutting the door so no rain could get in. Keith's eyes jetted to the floor, where Lance was unconscious.

"How much did he drink?!?!" Keith felt pent up aggression coming out at Shiro. Who would let Lance get that drunk?

"Keith, I swear it was barely two beers. He didn't tell us he was a lightweight." Shiro informed.

"I find that hard to believe, no one would call me pretty after just two." Keith replied.

A small grumble from the ground signified Lance's disapproval.

"See, he still thinks you're cute." Shiro said, smugly.

Keith felt heat travel to his cheeks as he denied it all, writing it off as a dream Lance was having. No way Lance would like him, even if he were gay, surely no one would want to be with Keith.

"Do you have his address? No way that mess can drive himself." Keith asked, Shiro quickly wrote down the numbers and street name. Keith grabbed it, attempting to pull the lanky boy to his car.

To Keith's dismay, Lance was heavy, and there was no chance He'd be able to pull him alone. Shiro and Hunk helped, wandering to the rain with a human noodle in their arms.

Once Lance was strewn across Keith's front seat, Hunk and Shiro went back inside. Keith strapped him in, taking time to admire his long eyelashes and peaceful expression. Keith noticed the rain clearing up, leaving a beautiful rainbow in the sky. He couldn't help what he did. It was completely instinct. He wasn't thinking, so how did he end up overthinking? Lance wouldn't remember it, how could he? He was blackout drunk.

Keith shouldn't have done that.

He shouldn't have kissed Lance.

Keith woke up on an unfamiliar couch. He quickly realized it was Lance's couch, where he was tucked in with about five pillows.

A note was taped to the coffee table.

I noticed you passed out on the chair by my bed , thanks for keeping me from getting myself killed last night.  
-Lance 

Keith sat up, looking around the house. Where was Lance's exchange family? Keith felt awful, his neck was sore, but not nearly as sore as his heart.

He kept replaying and replaying the moment he kissed Lance in his mind. Did Lance remember? 

Keith attempted to shove the shred of fear out of his heart, rushing out of Lance's house and to his own home.

After getting ready, Keith quickly rode his bike to school and heading to class.

Keith hated being late to class.

He lived a precise lifestyle, get to school ten minutes before the doors opened, focus on classes, eat the same peanut butter and banana sandwich that he'd had every day for the last five years, go home. 

Lance was messing it all up.

Keith was only eight minutes early, focusing was borderline impossible, he didn't have time to pack his lunch and he didn't particularly feel like going home.

As his bike slowed, Keith found himself outside the entrance of a small park. He's messed up his entire routine and he really just wanted a break.

He went home, the children in the park were too loud. Much too loud to focus on his racing thoughts.

Standing in his kitchen, he grabbed a spoon, peanut butter an--

A knock. A distraction.

The last thing Keith needed.

A groan escapes his lips as he abandoned his lunch for the next day, walking towards the door.

Lance.

Lance was interrupting the sandwich making that kept Keith sane.

"Hey, Keith. I wanted to say thanks for taking care of me last night. What are you up to?" Lance said, a smile gracing his lips.

"I'm making lunch." Keith wasn't having it today.

"What are you making?"

"A peanut butter and banana sandwich."

"Dude, that sounds disgusting."

"Nonsense. It's great."

"Show me then, I doubt it's good."

"Fine, get in here."

Keith grabbed a banana, along with more bread.

"So what you're gonna do is get a heap of peanut butter." Lance watches Keith intently, mimicking his actions.

Keith spread it on the bread, Lance doing the same. He squashed the banana, spreading it as well.

Keith stared at Lance as he took a bite, his eyes lighting up.

"This is the shit." Lance mumbles, food in his mouth.

Keith gives a smug smirk.

"Good?" Keith asks.

"Yeah!" Lance shouts.

After Lance leaves, Keith crashed down on the couch.

Even while they were just watching TV and doing homework, Keith's heart was beating dangerously fast.

A navy blue jacket smothers his face. It had been buried under a pillow, only getting excavated by his abrupt movement.

And it smelled heavenly.

Much like Lance did. Not that Keith had smelled him. No. Never.

Okay. Once.

But certainly not four times. That didn't happen.

If Keith hadn't been lying to himself, he'd admit that it was four times. But he was lying, because the truth would make him a freak. A gay freak who was utterly obsessed with a boy.

Keith nuzzled his head into the fabric, inhaling.

Having crushes was hard.

Having emotions was hard.

Keith would know, he'd been repressing his emotions ever since he was a small child.

The next day, Keith had woken up with the blue garment in his arms. He was reluctant to return it, even if he knew he had to. Lance would notice if he kept it, he wore it all the time.

Keith's phone buzzed on the coffee table.

Lance: By any chance, did I leave my jacket at your place yesterday?  
Keith:I'll check.  
Keith: You did. Do you want me to bring it to school today?  
Lance:That'd be awesome, thanks.

Keith set his phone down, sighing at his blatant lies. He knew Lance forgot his jacket, he'd been cuddling it since yesterday afternoon.

Keith had returned the jacket, with the day being widely uneventful.

It was about one in the morning when his phone had woken him up.

Lance: Hey  
Lance: You up?  
Keith: I am now, what is it?  
Lance: Oh  
Lance: Sorry  
Lance: I was just wondering if you wanted to go to the dance with me  
Lance: In a group  
Keith: That would depend on the group.  
Lance: Maybe... just me?  
Keith: Okay, I'll go.

Keith felt giddy, whether it was as friends or more, Keith cherished every moment with Lance.

Lance: You can go back to sleep now, beefy boy.  
Keith: You learned that from Pidge, didn't you?  
Lance: Yep, but now pigeon owes me ten bucks.  
Keith: For what exactly?  
Lance: Getting a date before her.  
Keith: A date? That changes the implications of going in a group.  
Lance: I'm not the kind of guy who would enjoy some weird orgy.  
Keith: Why not? You could do a lot better than me.  
Lance:I don't want to do better than you though...  
Keith: I'd bet you have girls lining up at your door, you have plenty of options.  
Lance: But you're the guy I want to go with  
Keith: Why?  
Lance: Because I like you! I don't even know why I like someone as oblivious as you! I've been dropping hints for weeks! I liked you since you helped me open my locker! Since you came to get me when I was drunk! I mean, I don't love you, but I think I could, and I love that there's potential to love you!  
Keith: I think I could love you too.   
Lance: Does that mean you'll go to the dance with me?  
Keith: Yes.  
Lance: I think I'm gonna barf.  
Lance: THE Keith Kogane just said he'll go to the dance with me!  
Lance: Wait  
Lance: So are you gay?  
Lance: Bi?  
Keith: Gay.  
Lance: Cool  
Keith: What are you?  
Lance: Bi  
Keith: Cool.  
Lance: Yeah. Not that you have any competition. No girl or guy could look as good as you under a porch light in the pouring rain.  
Keith: You remember that?  
Lance: I remember most of that night. The craving for tequila, you with a worried expression as you constantly fiddled with your fingers, you kissing me when you thought I wouldn't remember.  
Keith: Nope. Don't remember. Didn't happen.  
Lance: Damn, I was hoping for it to happen again.  
Keith: Fine, it did. As long as Pidge doesn't know.  
Lance:Deal.

Keith had to stop himself from squealing. Lance liking him back was a dream come true.

The next morning, Keith stumbled to his locker, barely awake.

How could anyone expect him to sleep after that?

Lance had his arm outstretched, covering both Keith's locker and the one next to it. 

Lance, focusing on his locker, didn't notice the shorter boy walking over and ducking into his arms to reach his locker. 

Keith, dying of embarrassment, nearly combusted when Lance tightened his arms around Keith. Most people walking by were probably confused by the random displays of affection between Lance and Keith, although Keith probably resembled more of a tomato than himself at the moment.

Keith looked up, watching as Lance smiled at him. The blushing, stuttering mess of a boy squirmed in Lance's arms, still trying to open his locker.

"Lance, we're going to be late." 

"You started it." Lance drops his arms, allowing Keith to get the small locker open. 

After getting several of the textbooks out, Keith and Lance walked to class, side by side. Halfway to Algebra, some deeply unpleasant girl approaches the pair.

"Hey, Lance." She chirped, stopping them in their tracks. She twirled her long pigtails, obsessively.

"Hey, Nyma. What's up?" Lance says, politely.

(A/N: I hate myself for that.)

"I was just wondering, do you want to go to the formal with me?" Keith was taken aback, waiting for Lance's response.

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm going to the dance with Keith. Besides, I thought you were going with Rolo."

Keith had never been so confused. Some person at school was named after a type of chocolate candy and he didn't know about it? He was definitely consulting Pidge after all of this.

"Ugh, as if. Rolo dumped me last week," Nyma had a look of confusion crossing her wide eyes, "Why are you going with Keith? I haven't seen that gay trash at a dance since the fourth grade."

Keith finally felt the need to speak up. "I don't think it was necessary to bring up my sexuality. That's not what makes me trash." She had a point though, Keith hadn't gone to a dance since the fourth grade.

"I don't think the amount of dances matters, it certainly doesn't matter as much as who you're going with." Lance adds in. 

Keith felt the need to digest the butterflies in his stomach, maybe then they would stop fluttering because of Lance. The constant flapping was irritating his intestines.

"Yeah, but why would you go with him of all people? Doesn't it make you uncomfortable that he's gay? I bet he already has a crush on you." Nyma was really getting on Keith's nerves now.

"I would hope he has a crush on me, otherwise my affection would be completely one-sided." Lance's words made those butterflies in Keith's stomach go wild. Heat flourished in his cheeks. 

Nyma's face dropped, shock and disappointment covered her features. "Wait, you're gay too?" The disappointment morphed into disgust.

"No, I'm Bi, it's rude to assume that everyone is either gay or straight, you know." Lance held a level of confidence that Keith could only wish to possess.

Now, Nyma didn't look disappointed nor disgusted, she looked pissed. 

Lance had called her out and Nyma didn't seem like a girl who was going to back down. Even if Lance had seemed level-headed, it was clear he had anger building up by the second.

Keith watched as Nyma opened her mouth to speak, shutting it again without a word. A small growl escaped her closed lips as she stomped away. To Keith, she had looked like an angry peacock, trying to flaunt her appearance even as she walked away.

Lance smirked.

Keith was shocked, he would have had a mental breakdown if he had to stand up for himself, and here he was, watching the boy of his dreams win some kind of modern-day joust over sexuality. Sure, Keith was capable of holding his own and acting self assured, but Lance not crying afterwards was what amazed him.

Lance held an outstretched hand, still offering to take Keith to class.

Keith's breathe got stuck in his throat, trapping itself when he carefully interlaced his fingers with Lance's larger ones. 

By the time he would make it to biology, he was ninety percent sure that he'd die of asphyxiation.

Keith didn't die, which was relatively shocking considering all his blood had flooded to his cheeks.

 

\--

 

The dance was tonight and to say the least, Keith felt like he was going to die.

Lance would be picking him up in one hour. That meant he had one hour to panic. Keith, having too much anxiety to sit still all day, was ready.

He had been adorned in a black suit with a red tie. Pidge had said it looked quite becoming on him, though he wasn't sure if that was true or not.

 

\--

 

The rapping on the door was horrifying. Keith was sure Lance looked wonderful, and he was right.

Lance had a black suit as well, although it was accompanied by a blue tie. His eyes shined in a way that would put the stars to shame, the soft blue tint resembling oceans that Keith would love to drown in. His hair was brushed out, and even without being done-up specially, it looked less like a brown mop; it had been parted on the side and brushed back. Lance's freckles were like constellations in the night sky, and Keith would have loved to map them out meticulously. In his tan hands, Lance held a small bouquet of lavender roses.

“You look.. amazing…” Mumbled Lance, as he covered his rosy cheeks with the flowers.

“Th-thanks… you do too.” Keith took a sudden interest in the old floorboards, even if he did have the same ones since he moved into the studio. Pidge sat on his bed, seemingly engulfed in the awkward tension in the air as she watched the boys. 

Lance handed Keith the small bouquet, his eyes flickering around the room. After the flowers had been moved into a pitcher (Keith didn’t own a single vase,) Pidge insisted on taking photos, claiming that “Keith was going to his first dance in nine years,” which was a momentous occasion in her eyes.

Pidge was like a little sister to Keith, and in the short amount of time Lance was in the country, she became someone Lance became quick to rely on her too. 

And damn, Pidge was glad she got to keep the picture of heated cheeks, nervous gestures and the overwhelming happiness in Keith’s eyes. He was so much more grown up than he was in fourth grade.

Keith grabbed Lance’s hand, tremoring as he met his gaze. The Cuban boy’s eyes crinkled as he smiled down at Keith.

Lance and Keith made their way out of the building, Lance’s thumb rubbing circles on Keith’s knuckles the whole way.

After climbing into Lance’s sister’s car, Keith let himself breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe this would all turn out okay. 

Maybe

After arriving at the school, Lance opened up Keith’s car door. Keith looked up at him, smiling and mumbling a quick thank you.

Lance grabbed Keith’s trembling hand. Passing the posters as they wandered the hallway. The Cuban boy could tell that Keith was anxious to enter the gym, and he couldn’t blame him, considering most dances were far too crowded for comfort. Grinding teens and spiked punch were bound to be littering the gymnasium. Lance would have felt just as serendipitous on the couch watching a movie with Keith, but if this was what Keith wanted to do, he was happy to comply. Lance rubbed circles on Keith’s knuckles, sparing him a smile before looking back ahead. 

Keith kind of felt like he was dying, which wouldn’t be surprising if he were. This was a new experience, one which he hadn’t taken if Pidge hadn’t been so persistent on his lack of a social life. She insisted that he had to put himself out there, saying it was what would get the attention of cute guys. Which in theory, the gremlin was correct, and it did get at least one cute guy’s attention. Keith felt like his heart was constricting, he was not only going to a dance with a guy he liked, but also holding hands with him.

“Should we head in then?” Lance asked, analyzing Keith’s expressions carefully. He wasn’t about to force Keith in there, not with his social anxiety.

“I guess so.” Came Keith’s response. Keith felt his hands trembling, maybe his skeleton is ready to hatch. He never understood why Pidge would say that, It was clearly because he was anxious, but it did usually feel like it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if he fell apart on the spot.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“I-I want to. Let’s go.” Lance didn’t buy it for one second, but if Keith was this persistent, he wasn’t going to fight him. Maybe they could go to McDonalds afterwards, given that the dance would only last until Eight. 

 

They didn’t manage to stay until Eight.

It was sort of freaking inevitable that Keith would panic, but this was bad. The music was obnoxiously loud, the lights were dark, yet colorful, and the vast sea of people flooded every nook and cranny.

Lance could tell that Keith was anxious, everything was shaking, even his eyes. So he did what any good sort-of-boyfriend would do, and he pulled Keith right out of there. So they sat in the hall, feeling the base shake the floor beneath them. They stayed quiet.

“We can do something else if you want.” Lance suggested.

“I’d hate to ruin your night, you can go back.” Keith sighed.

“No way, Josè. I’m staying with you tonight, now come on, we’re going out to eat.” Keith was taken aback; he thought surely that Lance would want to leave him.

Lance pushed himself off the floor, giving Keith his hand as well.

So there they were, sitting in Lance’s rundown 2001 Taurus and stargazing with a twenty piece chicken nugget box and two Doctor Peppers. Keith sort of loved Lance’s car. It was certainly well loved, with chipped paint and worn fabric seating. A plastic bag full of trash hung from the cigarette lighter, desperately in need of being emptied.

“This is better than the dance.” Keith mumbled.

“Much.” Agreed Lance, grasping Keith’s hand.

Keith was a blushing mess. No level of calculations or mental shower conversations could have prepared him for this. Then again, most of his made up scenes involved Lance leaving him after three seconds, so they were generally very wrong. Lance had the heat on full blast, creating a warm cocoon in the car.

Keith watched as Lance’s eyes sparkled under the stars. It truly felt like there was a future, even if they were just some boys eating McDonald’s in a beat up Ford. Icy blue eyes met indigo, leaning into each other. Their lips locked together in perfect synchronization, hearts beating as one.

They pulled back, plastered with smiles and rosy cheeks.

“So… are we, like, boyfriends now?” Lance said abruptly with a shiteating grin.

“You’re damn right we are.”


End file.
